Sincerely Yours, Beth Greene
by Beauty in the Night
Summary: Daryl hated Monday's. Monday's were mail days at the jail, and while his cell mate got mail from everyone and their mother, Daryl was left letter-less. Until one Monday, a letter showed up addressed to him signed "Sincerely Yours, Beth Greene." AU Prison blurb, rated for Daryl's language. May continue, may not
1. Chapter 1

The dumb fucker got him locked up. And not just for a night. For a fucking couple years. This is what the youngest Dixon got for following his asshole of a brother around. A six by eight room, just for him. And another fucking fucker. Just one more job. One more job is what Merle always said. Whether it was a drug deal, or a hit, it was one more then done. But they were never done. Merle couldn't stop, and Daryl was dumb enough to follow him blindly. They were blood after all.

Except now, if Daryl ever saw his dumb ass brother again, he would probably kill him. Then wind right back in the cell he hated so much. He had days upon days to sit in self-imposed silence. He had no one. Merle wasn't even in jail. The coward let Daryl take the fall and all the blame, and turned tail and left without a second thought. Yeah, blood alright. Blood when convenient, Daryl thought.

Monday's were the loneliest days. Monday's were mail day, and while everyone tore into mail from home, Daryl remained alone. It wasn't like he had family or friends to write to him. Before this, he had only had his brother. But now, now Merle was nothing to him.

Shawn, Daryl's weird but quiet cell mate, always got a shit ton of mail. From his parent's. His two sisters. His aunt and uncle. His friends from back home. Daryl was glad that Shawn had such a wide range of support and love, but that didn't stop him from also resenting him. The dumb fuck didn't even appreciate it. Always moaned and groaned when his mother's letters had ink that bleed out from her tears. "I can't read this for shit," he would grumble. _At least you have a mother. A mother that cares about you enough to cry, at that_. Would blush in embarrassment when his sisters would worry about him, and send him pictures of their lives. "Thanks, sis, for reminding me of how much better your life is then mine," was Shawn's sarcastic replies. _They want to involve you in their lives still, and that says a whole fucking lot. _He would get anger and throw tantrums when his father's letter were full of criticism and heat, but always ended with a declaration of unending love. "Yeah, right, you love me. You're letting me rot in here like a fucking killer. God, I hate him," Shawn would rant. _You don't know what hate is, kid. This man loves you more than I can even comprehend. _

Daryl hated Monday's. Until the day he got his very first letter, addressed to him in that girly, bubbly handwriting that could only be associated with someone young and sweet. When he opened it, he didn't know if he should feel…well, he didn't know what to feel. Angry, that Shawn would tell someone his cell mate didn't get mail. Ashamed, confused, defensive? But all he felt at the end of reading the sweet, bubbly handwriting, was a small smile creep upon his face.

_Sincerely yours,_

_Beth Greene._


	2. Chapter 2

**Ya'll are complete dolls, every one of you. Thanks for all the support in just a few hours for a post that was barely over 500 words! I got so inspired by all the nice words, so here is another little blurb with Beth's letter and Daryl's response! Updates will be short until the story gets going. Right now, I'm doing this for therapy. OH, before I go, if you haven't already go here p/the-walking-dead-bring-beth-back and sign the petition pleeease. **Hope ya'll like the chapter!****

_Dear Daryl,_

_I know you don't know me from Adam (Eve would be more fitting, I suppose, considering I am a lady), but you are cell mates with my idiot brother, Shawn. He hasn't said much about you, just that you are quiet, surly, and don't get any letters. He actually said he was jealous that you didn't. I guess he doesn't much like all the family "smothering" him. Is it considered _uncool_ to get letters in prison? Like, a mom sending a child off to school and putting little notes in their lunch level of uncool? Because if you say it is (that is assuming you write back, and I really hope that you do), I'll have to just go out and get some pink or pastel envelops or some embarrassing shit like that, just to spite him. Oh, this is a good idea. See, Daryl Dixon, you give me good ideas, and I haven't even seen you or heard from you yet._

_I really do wish you would take some time to write me back. I am sure you have better stories to tell then the ones Shawn tells us. Like, does he really expect us to believe that he beat someone up, that he narrowly escaped being shanked AND someone's bitch, when he can't even keep his facts straight. Seriously, he is a horrible story teller. _

_I don't care if you respond with a load of shit that isn't true at all, or with a gruff three lined letter (hopefully one that doesn't include "_fuck off little girl"_), or a genuine letter. To hear from you would be the highlight of my week. The idea of you not getting letters or having someone to visit you makes me sad. I believe that no one should have to be alone. Personally, I know what being alone can do to a person, and it isn't a good thing. Especially if the stories are true, and your brother left you. _

_I hope that I can be a friend to you, and in my deepest wishes, that you can become family. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_Beth Greene_

Well, damn. If her handwriting didn't tell him she was sweet as sugar, her letter just punched him in the trachea with all the sweetness. Now, Daryl Dixon was a man who liked his sweets, but even this was almost too much for him. Who was she, to think that they would be friends? And what about her parent's? He wasn't sure how old Beth was, but Shawn wasn't much older than 20. 21 maybe? And Beth was his _little_ sister. Not the older of the two sisters. Surely she was still a teen, and her parent's surely, _surely_ wouldn't want her making _friends_ with a criminal in prison. Talk about not safe.

Sweet and naive, those two qualities might make for a cute girl, but damn if they didn't get one into some serious shit in the real world. They were too trusting, too stupid to know the dangers lurking out there. What if Daryl was a complete pervert, and her she was, offering herself up to him, pretty much. Wanting to be friends with her brother's cell mate.

Dumb broad.

But even with all these negative thoughts floating around his head, he couldn't wipe that small smile off his face. It was barely there, a mere twitch of the lips for most people. But if Merle was there, Daryl could have knocked him over with a feather. Hell, with the smallest of exhales. Daryl Dixon doesn't smile. Daryl Dixon doesn't admit to things being sweet. Dixon men are tough sumbitches, and nothing gets to them.

Only, Daryl wasn't truly a Dixon. Not anymore. No, he is shedding that part of him off like a dirty old coat. Upgrading.

But to what? Merle was his only family left. His only _friend_ left. Without him, Daryl had nothing. Was nothing. Just some redneck asshole. But dammit, if this wasn't his chance to change. To be better. Not good, really, but better. He could do that, couldn't he? And the first step of this changed just wrote to him. He knew her brother sure as shit wasn't going to protect her like she deserved, and if she was writing to prison inmates for friends, she must need some guidance.

And even though he was a shit excuse for someone to look up to, he had to start somewhere. Finally getting up, he moved to a little table, grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and tried to figure out where to start in a response to the way to the little girl. He decided that this was going to be harder than he had even imagined. But by the end, he had scribbled out a message. It was a couple hours later, and there were a few sheets of paper balled up around him, but he had just finished. Shawn was snoring on his bunk when Daryl slipped into his own, tucking the letter with bubbly writing under his pillow.

The next morning, he got up early and asked a guard to send his letter out right away. He just hoped that Beth wouldn't be disappointed in the letter, with his barely legible handwriting and his simple signature of

_-Daryl_


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back! It's been a super busy couple of weeks, but I'm finally writing! Soon, I will edit the first two chapters, because honestly, talk about typos. But without further ado, Daryl's letter! :D**

_Beth Greene,_

_Didn't your momma ever tell you not to talk to strangers? Your brother? Your father? Your sister? I'm pretty sure talking to strangers who also are in prison is even worse. I could be a fucking psycho for all you know, and you just presented yourself up to me on a silver platter. Don't go writing to any other inmates, no matter how lonely you think they are._

_Trust me, they are lonely, just not how you are thinking._

_I don't know jack shit about what is cool or not, other than Shawn apparently thinks I am. And he only thinks that because everyone else is scared of the brooding redneck with a little bit of muscle. They all are fucking pussies if you ask me. But if you want to embarrass him, try some flowers or princess shit, but if you dare bring glitter into _my_ cell, I won't ever write you again (that is assuming you write back). Can't be a tough sumabitch if I got glitter on my face. If it would only infect Shawn, I'd say go for it. But I have to live here too. You might be good for giving me ideas, too, little girl. _

_I ain't much of a story teller, either. But I will just say that your "tough big brother" cried himself to sleep his first week here. He also almost pissed himself when he saw I was his _roomie_. I don't understand why people here are so scared of me, but it gives me my privacy and they leave me _alone_._

_I don't mind being alone, girl. Some people, it isn't for them, and I'm sorry to hear that it isn't for you. I like being alone just fine though. As for my brother, I don't have one so I don't know what you are talking about. Blood doesn't make family, is what I'm starting to find out._

_-Daryl_

Beth had all but screamed with glee when her daddy told her she had mail. At 18, the only mail she ever got was from colleges trying to recruit her last minute. As if she hadn't had her college career all planned out for years now. Her dad knew not to bother her with the post cards and packets that came from all across the country, just tossed them out.

But today he told her she had _mail! _Shawn would always respond to all of them in one short letter addressed to momma, so she knew it had to be from the second letter she sent out. To Daryl Dixon.

Her brother had only mentioned him briefly here and there, and Beth's heart just ached at the sad story Shawn unknowingly weaved. Landed in the slammer for his big brother's mistakes. Left to _rot_ by the very brother, who took off without a word. No letters, no visitors, no friends. Just quietly working his way through his time sentenced. He was almost the complete opposite of Shawn, and them being paired together was odd.

But after a long conversation with her momma about Shawn and eventually his _grump-a-lump_ (Shawn's seriously mature first description) of a cellmate, they both decided that Daryl Dixon needed some good ol' southern lovin'. And who was more loving then Beth Greene?

"Not a soul is sweeter than my little Snow White," her mother had cooed. Beth had blushed, always hating that nickname. Her hair wasn't even black…

But Beth had sat down and wrote and wrote and wrote until she had a letter that wasn't too _intense_ and just the right amount of sweet and funny, with a splash of caring. And she waited for today to come, when Shawn's letter usually arrived, for her own. She tried not to put too much hope into receiving a letter from Dixon man, but she had always hoped a little too much at things.

But today, her hopes and wishes weren't for waste. He had written back.

After her daddy's yell up the stairs and Beth held in her scream and substituted it for a high pitched squeal, she ran down the stairs and ripped the letter from an outstretched hand of her father. She didn't stop her momentum until she was on the porch swing and holding the envelope out to inspect. The handwriting was a little hard to decipher, squished together with really tall letters. It was the handwriting of a hard-working man, her daddy would say. After a deep breath, she gently opened the envelope, trying to keep the paper from tearing.

Another deep breath and the letter was in her hands, being carefully unfolded.

Xx

Absolute happiness. That's all Beth could think of to describe how she felt after reading the letter Daryl Dixon had scribbled out to _her. _It was so sweet, and longer than she expected. Shawn said he wasn't a man of many words, and he wrote her paragraphs. Shawn said he didn't care about nothing, but he was already looking out for her. _Don't go writing to any other inmates._ Silly man, why would she? He was the only one she even knew about.

Princess envelope were absolutely genius. Beth Greene already knew they were going to be the best partners in crime against Shawn Greene, and she knew that deep down, Daryl Dixon knew it, too.

She also knew that he was lying to her. He didn't like being alone. Nobody liked being alone, no matter what they say. And she would make sure he was never alone again.

Quickly, before any thoughts left her, she rushed to the kitchen table where her daddy stood with a confused look and his face and grabbed a notebook and pen and sat down. Before she knew it, she was signing the letter with a flourish,

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Little Girl_

**Who loves the sassy signature Beth gave? I know I do! She sure has spunk, as Daryl is soon going to learn! **

**Should probably warn you all I know jack about prison or prison life. So that aspect will be brushed over and vague, or if I do write something, incredibly wrong. So, if you all know more than me, give me some prison life tips and such. As long as I get the great response I've been getting, I'll keep writing so keep the REVIEWS coming my fellow bethyl dears!**


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